


Wet Pants

by skeleteen



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - No Werewolves, Bullied Stiles Stilinski, Bullying, Dead Claudia Stilinski, Derek Hale Saves The Day, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Homophobic Language, Hurt Stiles, Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, One Shot, Short One Shot, Stiles-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2018-05-08 07:40:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5489108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skeleteen/pseuds/skeleteen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles has been tormented by his former friend, Jackson Whittemore, and his friends since his mom died. Derek doesn't appreciate it. Sterek feels ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wet Pants

**Author's Note:**

> Homophobic language is used but I avoided the f-slur because you get the point without bringing that word out. Short and sweet. I just like a little innocent Sterek moment every once and a while, okay?

Stiles hadn’t felt safe walking home since his mom passed away. He used to get a peaceful ride from her in her powder blue Jeep. He will eventually drive himself in that same car; however, until he gets his license, he is forced to walk.

It wouldn’t be that bad if not for the company he picked up on the way.

“Oh, cute, he’s trying to ignore us.” Jackson, professional asshole, smirked. He jogged lightly to catch up to the fast pace Stiles set.

_Just half an hour left of walking. You can do this._

Stiles took a deep breath to keep his body from panicking at what he knew was going to come. Jackson hadn’t always been this way. The two boys were actually friends at one point. Stiles has vague memories of eating his mom’s homemade pies with Jackson in elementary school. However, when she passed, he took “giving him space” to a whole new level, deciding to ostracize him all together.

“Come on, Stilinski! Slow down a bit.” Aiden, another member of Jackson’s tormenting friend group, reached out and pulled his hood down from his head and tugged. Stiles choked, stumbling as his momentum was interrupted, and fell to the pavement.

He winced as he felt the damp ground. It had been raining earlier this morning. _Great_ , he thought, _now I have to walk home with wet pants._

“Stop.” He croaked out, wiping his scraped hands against the fabric of his jeans. His messenger bag had fallen off his shoulder and the contents spilled across the ground. Jackson laughed when Stiles made an attempt to stand and gather his things, pushing his shoulder roughly until he fell back down.

“Did I say you could get up?” He scoffed, gripping the front of his shirt roughly and kneeling down, invading his personal space.

Stiles let his irritation get the best of his common sense and chuckled humourlessly into Jackson’s face, which stood less than a ruler’s length away from his. “Is this the part where we passionately kiss like in the movies?”

“You’re fucking gay.” Jackson let go of Stiles and spit on him.

“Hey, my brother’s gay. Do we have a problem?” Aiden raised an eyebrow at Jackson, and Stiles grinned as he backtracked.

“At least your brother is dating Danny, this kid is worthless.” Jackson turned his nose up at Stiles, kicking him in the stomach. Any trace of humour in Stiles’ face left and was replaced with distress and pain as he gasped from the sudden contact.

Aiden seemed conflicted with his place in this whole scenario, standing awkwardly to the side as Jackson continued whispering hate speech as he not-so-gently pushed Stiles around.

“You could call your boyfriend for help, if anybody actually wanted you.” He snarled, dragging Stiles by his hood and pushing him off the concrete pavement and into a puddle. He yelped as the cold, dirty water covered his clothes.

“He could have called _me_ , if he wasn’t being your punching bag.” A male voice sounded from above him, and Stiles felt a large hand grip around his wet arms and pull him to a standing position. He crumpled against the chest of the mystery person, panting unattractively in a panicked haze.

Jackson jeered, “Hale, you’re one of them too?”

_Hale? As in gorgeous, very capable of beating Jackson up, captain of the Beacon Hills lacrosse team, Derek Hale?_

With a better balance, Stiles was able to stand and open his eyes fully. He remained pressed against Derek’s side, but he watched as Aiden shifted uneasily from one foot to the next.

“Uh, I have nothing against being that.” Aiden mumbled.

“Care to explain what you were doing then?” Derek said curtly, rubbing soothing circles into the side of Stiles where his arm rested. Stiles went into a coughing fit and Derek’s hand moved to his neck, gently keeping him steady.

Aiden grimaced. “It was just a joke. Jackson used to know Stilinski or something, said he could handle a little rough housing for being a dumbass.”

“We used to be _friends_.” Stiles snapped, his blood boiling.

“I am not _friends_ with _gay people!_ ” Jackson shouted, and everyone went silent.

“You’re not going to be friends with a lot of people, come tomorrow. Don’t bother showing up to lacrosse practice – Coach is pretty damn clear about his tolerance of homophobia.” Derek growled before turning to Aiden, moving Stiles with him as he refused to let go of his body. “I’m going to assume you’re just an asshole – not a homophobic asshole – and hope I don’t see you doing shit like this again or else I’ll do more than just kick you off the team. I’ll make sure you physically won’t be able to play lacrosse ever again.”

Aiden nodded quickly, and Jackson sputtered.

“I don’t want to hear excuses.” He deadpanned. “C’mon.”

Stiles, overwhelmed, barely remembered entering Derek’s car.

When he finally focused again, he realized that he somehow he ended up in the passenger seat of a Camaro next to Derek Hale, who was driving with a completely calm expression on his beautiful face.

“Crap, I’m getting your seat wet.” He said, still coming out of a daze.

“Well, I was hoping I’d only be dealing with a guy with wet pants in my car for very different reasons, but this is alright too.” Derek grinned, and Stiles’ eyes widened like saucers.

“Holy shit, are you flirting with me?” A smile creeped onto his face.

“Yes, I’m flirting with you.” He chuckled.

“That’s awesome!”

Derek raised an eyebrow. “I’m glad.”

It was silent in the car for a minute before Stiles broke it. “Um, I think Jackson is gay. He was always really open about stuff when we were kids and then once gay had a label, he changed a lot.” He chewed on his bottom lip. “I just don’t want to hurt him when he’s hurting himself–”

“Is that why you never fought back?” Derek whispered slowly.

Stiles nodded.

Derek sighed, “You can’t protect people for hurting people just because they are also hurt themselves, it's not fair to those people. What about those who don’t know about his past? The ones he doesn’t really care about?”

“I did think about that.” He mutters. “I just thought that if he needed a punching bag, I was probably the best candidate.”

“It’s alright to think about yourself every once and a while.” Derek said pointedly.

“I know that now.” He said softly. “Thank you.”


End file.
